


There's Magic in the Night

by that_1_incident



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, I've said it before and I'll say it again, Madam Spellman - Freeform, Michelle Gomez's character has so many goddamn names I can't even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_1_incident/pseuds/that_1_incident
Summary: Zelda doesn't quite realize what's going on until it's happening, at which point it's already too late. One moment, Mary's snapping her fingers with precisely the type of flourish that Zelda considers to be nothing short of severely unnecessary across the board, and the next, they're in Greece.(Just a witch and a demon on an impromptu lil vacation; you know how they do.)





	There's Magic in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from, but the heart wants what it wants. 
> 
> (Title from "Thunder Road" by Bruce Springsteen. Also, [there's podfic of this now](https://www.dropbox.com/s/ok775f5l4boinl5/There%27s%20Magic%20in%20The%20Night.m4a). And, hey, while you're here, why not check out [Something Wicked This Way Comes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523309), [There's Something About Mary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676707), [Post Tenebras Lux](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781785), [The Shadowy Murmur of Suns](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922571), [The Deathly Solace of Presence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299514), [The Silvery Glamour of Star-Birth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659382), and [Open, Locks, Whoever Knocks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279485)?)

_I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness:_  
_a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea._  
_Nothing else._  
  
**Nikos Kazantzakis**

* * *

Zelda doesn't quite realize what's going on until it's happening, at which point it's already too late. One moment, Mary's snapping her fingers with precisely the type of flourish that Zelda considers to be nothing short of severely unnecessary across the board, and the next, they're in Greece. 

\--

They're on Santorini, to be specific - or at least that's what Zelda can surmise from the view that stretches out in front of the sparkling white balcony on which she abruptly and discombobulatingly finds herself. She looks around a little dazedly, takes in the undulating slope of the mountainside and the echo of volcanic energy that lingers like a specter in the air. Aside from the underlying frisson of the now long-extinct volcano, the breeze is cool and calm as it wafts across the island, and the gentle curve of the coast is traced by scattered pinpricks of softly flickering light. 

Zelda rolls her eyes less overtly than she wants to but still a touch less discreetly than is probably appropriate. It could be said (by anyone who isn't Zelda herself, of course) that Mary's been attempting to woo her for a while now, and although Zelda hasn't explicitly reciprocated, she hasn't responded with abject disinterest either - a fact that's most certainly not gone unnoticed by Mary.

All of which is to say that Zelda's suddenly five thousand miles away from Greendale with a woman she not only barely knows but is historically rather annoyed by. As one might expect, this state of affairs means she's seeking an explanation sooner rather than later, although her previous experiences with the teacher make her strongly doubt that one's forthcoming. 

"Surprise," Mary says theatrically, cocking her hip in that exaggerated way of hers. She leans against the balcony, her curves promptly silhouetted by the setting sun in a manner that seems sufficiently choreographed to make Zelda wonder whether the other woman had somehow tracked down Helios himself and got him to do her bidding. 

It's an infuriating performance, one that would seem gauche and out of place in almost any set of circumstances Zelda can imagine, although the waves dramatically crashing below them serve to remind her that these particular surroundings might just be the exception. After all, Zelda muses in spite of herself, virtually everything about this island is a tad ridiculous - its disproportionate beauty, its unapologetic allure. There's no wonder Mary likes it. 

"Wine?" Mary's voice is breathy and insistent, her teeth bared in a smile that seems slightly too wide for comfort, her eyes positively glittering. There's something feral in her gaze, a spark of primordialism that both attracts and repels Zelda all at once. 

Zelda isn't exactly sure where the bottle comes from, nor the delicately fluted glass that's suddenly foisted upon her. She raises an eyebrow and responds in as arch a tone as she can muster, "I'm not entirely sure what you're hoping to accomplish here, but..." 

She trails off bemusedly at the sensation of Mary pressing the cool vessel firmly into her hand, refusing to let go until she grasps it. She simply can't get used to Mary Wardwell's unmitigated gall, no matter how much time she spends around the other woman - something that unfortunately seems destined to increase ad infinitum now that Sabrina has selected arguably the most inappropriate possible sherpa to guide her along the Path of Night. 

"It's called _Assyrtiko_ ," Mary supplies helpfully, and although Zelda's confident her over-enunciation wouldn't impress the locals, it leaves Zelda herself mildly weak at the knees. She takes a sip out of pure annoyance and tries to keep any hint of expression from manifesting itself on her countenance. 

"The grape is indigenous to the island," Mary continues, practically purring now. She tilts her head coquettishly, and Zelda allows her gaze to linger for a moment on the full, dark tresses that spill onto her shoulders. "It's known for being sweet, yet... full-bodied." 

When Zelda chokes on her wine, an expression of pure, unfiltered delight illuminates Mary's face. 

\--

As it turns out, being on a Greek island with Mary Wardwell and no one else in sight is... not horrible. Zelda even comes close to smiling on a couple of occasions - the first when the breeze gently rustles her hair in a way that's reminiscent of fall in New England at the turn of two centuries ago, and the second when Mary's eyes widen to almost comedic proportions upon discovering the two of them have made impressively short work of the bottle. Zelda realizes with a mild sinking feeling that she must be predominantly responsible, given that Mary's been spending most of her time taking small, precise sips and unabashedly glancing at Zelda from under her eyelashes. 

And come to think of it, everything does feel somewhat warm and slightly hazy, and just a little out of focus at the edges. Zelda and Mary stare out wordlessly from the balcony for a while, standing side by side in what Mary would probably push to characterize as a companionable silence, and Zelda doesn't exactly hate it. 

When Mary lifts a hand to Zelda's waist, her touch is so soft that Zelda barely feels anything at first. In fact, she's surprised Mary's even capable of such a feather-light motion after the subtle-as-a-sledgehammer qualities she's consistently displayed throughout their entire acquaintanceship thus far, to say nothing of her garish lipstick and too-tight dresses and _impossibly_ angular cheekbones and, oh, the list would go on, except Mary leans over and kisses her. 

\--

Zelda freezes against Mary's lips as a brazen, treacherous thrill runs up her spine. Mary kisses like she does everything else - aggressively, frenetically, and with an unnervingly singular focus - and the fiery press of her mouth renders Zelda temporarily unable to breathe. The whole situation feels ludicrous to Zelda - where she is, who she's with, how she got here - and yet, she finds herself kissing back.


End file.
